A/n: Yay, reviews! They make me ever so happy... Siiiiigh.

Ahem. Right.

This chapter is going to take a strange turn. Angst galore!

And as a warning, I'm too lazy to edit it a whole lot, so... it may be a little all over the place and stuff.

Bakura regarded the distorted image in the glass, fingering the face it reflected; his own, hideous face. The disfiguration was always there, always tugging slightly at his corporeal body and giving it a hostile appearance. But his spiritual face alone accurately illustrated his black and shattered heart.

The scars streaked across his face almost like paint, the ugliness within him manifesting itself on his mental body. Each day he would stare into the ethereal mirror of his soul room, the constant reminder that he would never be anything more than this contorted picture. He could never hide from it; nor could he block the occasional screaming of the souls- souls he had taken life from, souls he had banished to the eternal shadows.

But he already lived in part of that shadow. His mind was already half taken by the shadow dweller's deranged calls. It would only be a matter of time until he had fallen fully from the clutches of the light.

The black room itself was distorted in a sickly way, twisting and uneven. It was nothing but shadows, originating from his body and dancing off the walls, almost laughing at him.

But the darkness was his strength. He could not allow any weaknesses that would leave him vulnerable to the light. He would not be conquered.

No guilt, no resolutions, no weakness. It would destroy him, he would break, and he would be both the punisher and the punished. He had chosen this path, had done this to himself, and nothing he could do would change that. This was how it had to be.

And so he would laugh back...

A loud creak suddenly filled the room, and Bakura, leaping up and shielding his face, backed away from the light flooding through the open door.

"Yadonushi! What are you doing- get out!"

Ryou quietly shut the door behind him, stepping cautiously into the darkness of his yami's soul room.

"...No."

"Do as I say!"

"No, Yami."

The child-like soul repeated himself with more clarity, his curious eyes resting on the arm that shrouded Bakura's face. He timidly reached up to remove it.

"Don't touch me!"

Choosing to ignore him, Ryou wrapped his small fingers around the spirit's wrist and slowly pulled it aside, the light gently pushing away the darkness, and mutely heeded the disfigured face. Bakura's eyes narrowed coldly.

"You disgust me, Yadonushi."

Silence.

"You mean nothing to me."

The grasp on Bakura's wrist tightened.

"...Get out! Get away from me!"

Evidently, Ryou was rather set on doing the exact opposite. He leaned forward, face so close that he could feel his warm breath mingle with his own. Bakura stiffened ('Damn it, I knew this would happen!'). Ryou gave him a small smile, making his yami's heart race a little faster.

"We're not so very different, you know," he said softly, reaching out and delicately tracing the path of a scar running down Bakura's cheek. "Not really."

Ryou simply stared at him for a moment, eyes glowing fiercely with a dominant emotion. Bakura was only vaguely aware that the space between them had closed, and that Ryou's lips were now pressed against his. Nothing mattered. Nothing but his hikari's touch...

When Ryou finally pulled away, Bakura stared after him. His eyes contained a hint of the same emotion that Ryou had regarded him with.

"...Why did you do that?" Bakura asked, genuinely confused. "This soul is black. I've done things to people... unforgivable things. What makes you think I won't hurt you?"

"I have to trust that you won't."

Bakura frowned, still not understanding.

"I'd risk everything to be with you," he continued, voice lowering, "I... I'm in love you."

Bakura's eyes widened, and the tumbling shadows stood still.

Ryou loved... him?

It had been a long three thousand years since he'd even heard that word. He had forgotten what it was like to be loved. What should he be feeling now? How does one react to that? Isn't it... a good thing?

No. Love is a weakness. How could he love him? He was his complete opposite! How could the light love the darkness?

"You're being a fool," Bakura finally scowled.

"Yami... the darkness hasn't won yet," a sterner tone entered the little soul's voice, "You don't have to yield."

"I yield to no one," Bakura growled, "I am the darkness."

The light in Ryou's eyes dimmed slightly.

"If that is so... then you're destroying yourself."

Bakura decided that he didn't like this look in his light's eyes. It made him feel... strange. He wanted this dark expression to go away, he would do anything to make it go...

"But I don't believe that," Ryou persisted, gesturing lightly to the scars, "These can heal, Yami. If you could just trust me..."

Ryou gently took hold of Bakura's hands, submissively, once again staring intensely at him.

"...If you could... love me."

He nearly choked on the word. Fear visibly rippled through him as he gazed pleadingly at the unmoved soul.

"...I couldn't do that," Bakura replied, softer than he had planned on being.

Ryou's grip suddenly intensified, eyes drowning in darkness again.

"...Please," his voice had dropped to a whisper, "...try."

Bakura tried to maintain an unfeeling appearance, but his light's words were digging into him.

"For your own sake," Ryou continued, voice shaking, "try to live again. I won't pretend to be your first choice- I know I'm not. But I'm all you have..."

"Mortality," the darker soul protested, "is limits, and weakness. I feel it every time I touch you, and become drunk on it- love can only injure!"

"...What did you say?"

Ryou had frozen as the words began to sink in. Bakura blinked, also realizing what, exactly, he'd just said. He fumbled a bit for a moment, searching for a way out of the hole he'd just plunged himself into. A cruel thought came to him, and the words were out before he realized the damage they could do.

"Love," he began coldly, "is for the weak."

The silence that followed was painful to endure. Ryou somehow managed to maintain his composure, even as a single tear slid down his cheek. The damp trail darkened and hissed as like acid it burned into his skin. He dropped Bakura's hands, and slowly exited the room.

The darkness seemed blacker than ever.

A/n: Baukra, you IDIOT!

Dude, is Ryou insanely selfless or what? It kind of makes me want to punch him... that can't be good...

I was so afraid of Ryou being inconstant in this chapter, but I think it works. More or less. He knows that even if Bakura does kind of like him, he'll never submit to love so long as he keeps this attitude. And if a powerful healer like love doesn't enter his life any time soon, he'll just sink deeper and deeper into hell.

Sigh... Bakura did try and warn him that he could get hurt, but there are no clear warning signs when you're in love, ne?

BLESSED ARE REVIEWERS, FOR THEY SHALL INHERIT THE EARTH!